


Can You Feel This?

by 0ceansgayt



Series: Fictober/Kinktober ‘18 [1]
Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Murder House
Genre: F/F, Fluff, fictober18, just cute fluff, nora is awkward and a smol bean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 12:30:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16175114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0ceansgayt/pseuds/0ceansgayt
Summary: From the moment Billie Dean stepped into what was dubbed the ‘murder house’, she knew she was in for a wild ride. There was just something about that house - a presence - that called her back time and time again, even when she didn’t particularly feel like responding to Constance’s calls.The presence came in the form of a blonde 1920s socialite, all fair skinned and simply gorgeous. In any other circumstance, Billie Dean would have had no interest in someone like her, but Nora was just remarkable. There was just something about her - maybe her voice or the way she smiled when she was truly happy - that drew Billie Dean in time and time again.





	Can You Feel This?

**Author's Note:**

> AYOOOOOO your girl is BACK with some gay shit. 
> 
> Read, review, and request some shit! 
> 
> And of course, hit me up if you want to see anything for fictober

It wasn’t like she asked to be a medium, it just sort of happened. 

And thank god that it did. 

From the moment Billie Dean stepped into what was dubbed the ‘murder house’, she knew she was in for a wild ride. There was just something about that house - a presence - that called her back time and time again, even when she didn’t particularly feel like responding to Constance’s calls. 

The presence came in the form of a blonde 1920s socialite, all fair skinned and simply gorgeous. In any other circumstance, Billie Dean would have had no interest in someone like her, but Nora was just remarkable. There was just something about her - maybe her voice or the way she smiled when she was truly happy - that drew Billie Dean in time and time again. 

She even made friends with the owners of the house, the Harmons, in an effort to spend more time in the home. It was a huge faux pas on a business level, but she just couldn’t help it. 

The woman came around the more time Billie Dean spent in the home, curious and timid and gone before the medium could even bid her a good day. Her touch left Billie Dean reeling, skin tingling where the woman had laid her hand, usually on her shoulder or arm, flashing a gentle, watery smile before disappearing again. 

It was almost fate that the Harmon family tragically passed only after her show gained popularity, leaving her with enough money to purchase the home for herself. It was a risky move, sure, but Billie Dean just couldn’t shake that undeniable pull to the home. 

At first, Nora never came around. Of course, Billie Dean heard murmurings of her from the other ghosts, but she made herself scarce. It was quite honestly a blow to the medium’s ego - she had never had trouble maintaining or building relationships with anyone, human or spirit - but after some time, she began to come around, just to disappear again. 

It had first happened when Billie Dean was sitting in her office, reading glasses perched on the bridge of her nose and a cigarette left abandoned, burning away and forgotten in her ashtray. She was typing away, editing a portion of her new book, when she felt the familiar profile of goosebumps on her skin. Without looking up, she let out a long and drawn out sigh before waving her hand over her shoulder. 

“Tate, I told you not to come in here while I’m working. I’ll be out in a bit.” 

There was a nervous titter from the corner of the room, someone sputtering to find the right words. The sound had Billie Dean’s head snapping up in an instant, turning in her chair to the corner where the noise came from and laying eyes on the elusive Nora Montgomery. 

“I can just- I’m so sorry, Miss. Howard…” 

“No. Stay.” Billie Dean offered her a gentle smile, swiftly rising from her chair and moving across the room to pull out an extra chair for the woman. She wasn’t entirely sure if ghosts needed to sit, but the sentiment was nice nonetheless. 

She watched carefully as Nora tentatively sat, perched on the edge of her seat with her scrap of lace handkerchief clutched tightly in her hand that was pressed to her chest. There was a beat of silence between the two, so quiet you could hear a pin drop in the room. 

Nora set her hands on the arms of the chair like she was about to stand, letting out a long sigh and looking up at Billie Dean, eyes creased with sadness.

“I don’t know why I came here.” 

“It’s okay that you did. I was hoping I’d see you.” The medium smiled gently, scooting her chair closer to the other woman. 

“I’m lonely, Charles has all but gone and I can’t hardly...Tate is never around, always with that Violet girl.” 

“I know.” She paused for a moment, eyes scanning the room for any wayward ghosts trying to conceal themselves. “I’m lonely too.” 

“Why, you’re the most famous woman in the world! That’s positively insane.” Nora looked flabbergasted, handkerchief hand settling over her chest. 

“Not the world, but thank you.” She paused again, taking a long sip from her water bottle and smiling gently at the other woman. “I was hoping you’d come see me, you know?” 

“Whyever would you want that?” 

“I don’t know.” 

It was the truth - she really didn’t know why she wanted to be around Nora so much. There was something about the other woman that intrigued her, made her want to get to know her better - something that went far deeper than most people’s nosiness. 

“Oh.” Nora’s mouth opened and closed for a moment, silently searching for the words she needed. After a moment, her lips curled into a small smile followed by a shirt exhale. “Alright. That’s alright.” 

Billie Dean’s lips quirked up into a smile of her own, leaning forward in her chair to press a soft hand to Nora’s forearm. “You can relax, you know? I’m not going to bite you.” 

There was a beat of silence, the blonde woman looking down at the hand on her arm almost incredulously. 

“You’re home. You know that, right? This is your home too.” 

Nora’s eyes went watery again, fingers wrapped in lace handkerchief coming to rest gently on Billie Dean’s hand as she stared at the other woman’s limb. 

“Can you...can you feel this?” She murmured, eyes transfixed on the medium’s skin that seemed to be a few shades pinker than her own, presumably due to the blood flowing through her body. 

“Yeah...yeah I can.” Billie Dean turned her hand so her palm was facing up, smiling gently when Nora ran two gentle fingers and the scrap of lace across her palm. “You’re cold, like ice.” 

Nora frowned at her hand, curling her hand into a fist before tentatively pulling it away. Truth be told, she didn’t want to pull away. It was the only contact to another person - other than Thaddeus - she had felt in ages. It left her skin feeling tingly and her heart happy...happier than she could ever remember being. 

Billie Dean caught Nora’s wrist between her fingers, gently pulling the other woman’s hand back down and lacing their fingers together.

“I told you that you were cold, not to stop.”


End file.
